if we teach
resurrection to the polar bears

we didn't pray hard enough--
that was of course the issue
as it always is with
humans & their plastic
six-pack rings floating
out to form an
island in the bubbling
gulf of mexico-- the
witch's cauldron--
waves hissing & 
bursting from heat--
cooked flesh of the red snapper
& black-nose shark
rise to the surface--
the fishermen crunch bone
& scale from the deck--
yes but i'm a vegetarian--
this is the kind of violence
meant for meat eaters
& their selective love
of animals they think will
love them back &
yesterday i saw a 
polar bear with
the body of a marionette--
dangling & languid--
strings knotted
in the clouds as they
drifted cautiously above
the naked plain--
no this is the sins
of bone-marrow drinkers
& no of course
we didn't pray enough--
we didn't pray enough
we didn't put out
enough recycling
bins & last week that
one time i
took my plastic diet
coke cap & i dropped
it out the open window
of my car--
oh humans &  your plastic 
souls-- your plastic
tongues &
plastic-bag lungs 
inhale deep-- you
must take as much air
as you can for yourself--
we must of course
do what we do best &
teach the last polar bear
about resurrection--
glass hotel bibles &
aluminum hymnals
we'll walk from
here to the arctic 
circle on floating
blue recycling bins
because the vegetarians 
know that plastic
water bottles 
are just another 
part of the circle
of life of melting &
down again &
again-- 
that's what god does
with humans after all--
sorts their 
green or brown
or
clear-glass souls
clicking as they're
tossed-- some of
us shatter on
heaven's concrete
floor & we still
feel the fissures--
reduce 
re-use
recycle me lover
where are we going
& how will we
convince the 
polar bear to
believe in god
& his empty
caves?
blow lips
over glass bottle
rim to summon
the gulls--
when we arrive 
we sing the hymns
we still remember
from our Catholic 
days-- ave ave 
ave maria-- 
one bread one body
--break
glass & crush metal
what use is
an animal 
without a god?
we say
stand up &
take back your
melting soil--
peel off your
thick fur-- learn
to feed off
faint sun & plastic--
adaptation of the 
fittest--
repent & evolution
will save you--
& the polar bear
shut their eyes &
next came the sun--
a kind of weeping
that quaked in the earth's
every fault line
& angry i said  
but i own blue recycling
bins--
i don't eat animals--
i'm here to save you--
take these 
god-words-- 
oh listen to me
listen to me--
& stepping back the
polar bear's body 
broke like a yellow
glow stick &
was pulled up
by marionette strings--
breathed cold
& frost-bitten &
the plain bloomed
with snow--
thick body & 
lush white the polar bear 
shook flurries
from fur--turned
to pace back over
her ridge &
i too pivoted to 
float back home--
wondering
how many more times 
those hymns will
work--
at the kitchen table
i tell myself
i will eat
only bottle
caps & of
course we
didn't pray hard
enough--
it's easier to
blame it on
the lungs &
the clamoring 
of my 
green glass 
soul--